When does it end. This constant pain in my chest. Grrr. These past few days and maybe weeks. I don't know things still run into each other. I feel like my anxiety is choking me. I guess I am back to feeling like I have a gaping wound in my chest that I am just walking around with it hanging open. So raw and sometimes hollow. As if the days just sort of float by. I am always grateful for times when my mind is so busy that it can't think about how horrid it is to constantly miss him. As the leaves change and the days go on I feel like I am being hit in the stomach when I think of the month October. heck I feel that way when I think at all.
I have heard many different things about anniversaries. How we maybe make a bigger deal out of them than they really are. By dreading them feels like nails on a chalk board. That when it finally arrives it's sort of the "Oh well. that wasn't so bad." Like its the days that lead up to it, that are horrible. I say "maybe" I haven't decided yet. Or that when the big day arrives, we should celebrate his life and not his death. OK I can see that one too. Or there is the other side that People look forward to the day that it can just slip by without them knowing it has even occurred. However for those people, I think they would have to be stoned not to notice. It's like the birth of your children. Yes granted their are people out there who forget their kids birthdays. But I think as a mom you don't usually forget all those hours in labor. It tends to remind you and make it impossible to forget.
I was glad for Zumba tonight. It kept my mind and body busy. Like a break from feeling like shit all the time. I guess I had heard so often that it gets easier with time however time does not seem to be helping me right now. Granted I do go in spurts. Where I think " sure we are doing great." And like lots of days recently I feel terrible. Like how can I get through the next day. It's almost like getting used to having a bad backache. Or not being able to turn your neck very far. For me it's my whole torso hurts. Starting at my throat and working its way down into the pit the bottom of my stomach.
Maybe its just that I am noticing it more. Like when you buy a new/used car suddenly everyone has your same car. I am feeling right at this moment a little tired of picking myself up off the ground. Tired of getting into bed at night without him there. tired of havig dinner with just the kids and I. Tired of being tired, and tired of worrying about it all. I was washing bottles today and I thought of my neighbor and how hard he works all the time. I mean I think he enjoys it. He likes to be busy. But I wonder is he living and enjoying his life? Or just getting by until something else comes along. Or another project happens by. I feel that in some ways I am a little tired of just surviving life. What happened to having fun? I want some fun now. I am done with this. I want to go out on Date night. But I want to go out on date night with Pete. Not with some random person. I keep having these weird thoughts about dating. Like going out to meet someone for coffee. First of all where would I meat anyone and second I think that if I was to meet someone what would be my opening line.. Hi, there,. Want to go out with a recent widow who has three small kids at home and a slightly post partum body? I tell ya, I am the life of the party. Oh and if I have to much to drink I will either start crying or be asleep. Cause Man I have not slept in a year.." Somehow I don't think this would be received well.
Then I think I don't want to meet anyone I want to meet Pete. Thats why I married him. I wanted only him. So here I sit. Still only wanting him. And yet I want to do something different. Do something fun. Get this obnoxious, irritating bleeding scab to just stop aching. Stop the throbbing. I know, I know, Just put one foot in front of the other and keep it going. Steady is the way to be. I don't feel steady There does not seem to be enough words to describe heartache. because its; more than the heart. Too bad I don't have a thesaurus handy. I would look up all the words I could think of to describe pain. Aching, throbbing, numb, stabbing., shooting pains. unfortunately the only way to heal this life, This whatever this is. Survival? Is time. I hate that. I am done with Father time, thanks. Always have been impatient. Not that I want to forget Pete. I just don't want to hurt anymore. It gets old. It;s like being on hold and listening to the same recoding over and over. "your call is very important to us.." You feel that if that lady comes on again, So help me..
I don't want to go through the whole process of finding someone else to share my life with.,. I just want the right person to just knock on my door. I can open the door he will smile, and seem very familiar and that will be that. Since Father time seems to think I need time, I need some salve to put on my weeping heart. loosen the collar of anxiety that is way to tight. Get rid of this corset of worry that hugs my solar plexus. And then take a deep breath and feel the release of it all. I pray for that day to come soon. Oh how I pray. I am tired. Physically, emotionally and spiritually just tired. Raw and empty.
I was driving to pick up Aryanna from school today when I just started to cry. How insane and lonely and lost Aryanna and Petey must feel. To miss Pete in ways they probably can't put into words. No more story time with daddy. To climb up into his lap and on his belly to play. To laugh. To be squeezed and kissed with Daddy's scratchy beard. To hold his hand and walk to the park. To paint with him, to have him draw them anything they could dream up with sidewalk chalk. To run to him with all their might and have him swoop them up into the air. To climb into his lap and eat peanuts and popcorn. Camp out in the living room.watch movies and make jewelry and bake together. Not that I can't do some of those things with them. It's not the same. I don't smell like Daddy. I don't laugh like daddy. I am not Daddy. I am Mommy. Trying to fill the role of both.
I miss him with every breath that I take. and every tear that I cry. As I watch my kids grow and get bigger I think of how proud Pete would/is of them. He is not here with us physically but Pete is here spiritually. I feel him close by. He does send me reminders that he is just right next to me, sitting beside me. But Oh, How we miss him like crazy!